


Free Falling

by Jean Genie (Su_Abeille)



Category: Actor RPF, Star Trek RPF
Genre: Cast as a family, Cast friendship, Emotional Intimacy, Ensemble Cast, Ensemble cast dynamics, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other, Pinto, Star Trek Beyond, ensemble cast family, tw: death of a loved one, tw: grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7808779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su_Abeille/pseuds/Jean%20Genie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about the group's reaction to the death of Anton.  It is an examination of how grief affects people in different ways, and an exploration of the dynamics of Chris and Zach's relationship as well as this group as a family, and the roles they play within that family, done with respect to the realness of this tragedy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Falling

**Author's Note:**

> I recently experienced a great loss, and am very familiar with the process of grief, of how those five stages - denial, bargaining, anger, depression and acceptance - spin around in all directions, in no particular order, sometimes seeming to happen all at once. One of the ways I've been processing my grief is by writing fiction about loss, whether through fanfiction ([set in the Penny Dreadful universe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Su_Abeille/pseuds/Jean%20Genie/works?fandom_id=1909262)) or in my own original fiction. 
> 
> Seeing this cast interact, the closeness between them, and then seeing how they've spoken about this terrible loss, it all felt very familiar. The coming together, the relying on one another, the creation of a familial bond, these are ways that you survive grief. I have tried to ensure that this isn't exploitative of this real life tragedy, rather based on the things that the cast themselves have said about how they've reacted and exploring that.
> 
> Thank you to [itreallyisthelittlethings](http://itreallyisthelittlethings.tumblr.com/) for the input and inspiration. You can find me on tumblr [here](http://homicidalbrunette.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Also I wrote a Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans fic where I got a lot of inspiration from Pinto.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10474293/chapters/23110335)

Zach stared at his phone as it shook in his hand, the text message notifications flashing again and again like the pulsing of a vein. It wasn’t, it couldn’t. It couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t.

The whole world had dropped away from him, and there was just his phone in his hand. It was all these different names, names that Zach couldn’t comprehend or recognize, the same message again and again.

_I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry._

Sorry for what? It was impossible. None of this was real.

A discordant note broke through the litanies of apologies.

_Chris isn’t answering his phone_

Chris’ name was like a beacon. It was a flickering over the stretch of dark water like Gatsby’s green light. He watched as his fingers put in his passcode and checked his text messages for Chris’ name but there was nothing from him. It was John messaging.

_I called him and made sure he knew_

_He didn’t_

_I told him and he hung up_

Out of the muddy waters in his mind, this pushed forward, clear and sharp.

Chris. He had to get to Chris.

With this goal, he had a focus. He was able then to call Chris, and he listened as the phone rang until it went to voicemail. He sent a text, then called again, then another text, then another. There was no answer.

Afterwards he swore he had texted John to say he was going to Chris’ house. It wasn’t until later, much later, that he realized that he must have said it out loud, as if John were right there.

He watched from above as he got into his car and drove the route to Chris’ that he knew by heart, the shock making all of it seem so far away. It wasn’t until he saw Chris’ car parked in front of his house that he came back to himself and remembered what he was doing.

As he approached the house he realized that Chris’ car was still running. He walked to the other side and found the driver’s side door open, the bingbingbingbing alert making the sense of urgency that was already tightening Zach’s chest even more constricting. While he was turning the car off and pulling the keys out of the ignition he saw Chris’ phone, discarded on the floor under the driver’s seat. It was thrumming non stop, and Zach saw the same chorus of apologizes on Chris’ phone as he had on his.

When he got to the front door, he found it ajar. He pushed it open carefully, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, gradually a form became clear.

It was Chris, slumped against the wall of the hall across from the door, posed like a broken toy, his legs akimbo, his face completely blank. It wasn’t until Zach gently touched his arm that he responded, looking up at him with utter confusion.

Zach numbly sat down next to him and tried to focus on the feeling of Chris’ shoulder pressed to his. Suddenly he saw the truth tall and threatening in front of him, a wall about to collapse over him like a tidal wave, tearing him asunder in its wake. He gasped at it, horrified by it.

In his panic, his eyes danced all around until they settled on Chris’ hands. He was trembling, shivering as if he was standing in a freezing wind.

Chris. Chris needed him.

His thoughts came into focus finally, and an uneasy stillness, like the eye of a storm, came over him. Chris had never lost anyone before. He had never experienced what it was like for someone he loved to just suddenly not be there anymore. Zach had always envied this innocence in him, but had been fearful of how for granted Chris took the presence of those around him. It wasn’t arrogance or dismissiveness, it was the complete unawareness that at any moment someone could be gone, like a light flickering out.

“Chris.” Zach breathed out, empathy filling every part of him, so overwhelming that it blocked out his own pain for a moment. “Oh Chris.”

Then finally he saw comprehension dawn on Chris’ face. He looked down at Zach’s legs next to his and reached out tentatively to touch Zach’s thigh as if to ensure he was real. When he looked up, his eyes were full of fear.

“Our brother died.”

A sob shattering inside Zach, tearing through him, his teeth chattering with it, tears falling and falling and falling.

It did happen, it had happened, it did happen, it had happened.

Zach blindly reached out and grasped Chris’ hand, gulping in breaths to bring himself back off the ledge. Chris’ gaze moved over his face, watching Zach but still frozen in place.

“Your phone.” Chris said in a flat voice.

Both his and Chris’ phones had been nonstop thrumming in Zach’s pocket this whole time, for so long that it had just become white noise.

“I don’t know where my phone is.” Chris said in a completely disconnected tone.

Zach pulled his own out of his pocket, putting in his passcode as quickly as possible, trying not to look at the notifications constantly flashing.

“I was talking to John…”

“I know, I’ll text him.”

Again, Chris focused him, brought him out of his haze. He messaged John and said that he was with Chris now.

_Come over here_

Yes. Yes this was what they had to do. They had to go to John’s. He realized he’d said this out loud when Chris squeezed the hand that was holding his.

“Can we?” Chris’ voice was like a child calling out in the night, wild with fear and searching for comfort.

“Yes, yes, we can go.” Zach shifted his legs under him. “Can you walk to the car?”

Zach was able to get Chris to his feet again and they walked out to Zach’s car, Chris gripping his hand so tightly that it hurt. Chris got in the passenger side and Zach went back and locked the front door. He got in the car then sat there, forgetting for a moment exactly what he was supposed to do. His hands ran lightly over the steering wheel and suddenly the memory came back to him. He could do this. They would go to John’s and things would be okay.

“Everything is okay, Chris.” It wasn’t okay, or even anywhere close to okay, but in that moment, he wanted to believe it so much that it felt true.

 

Once they were at John’s, things seemed to feel real again. John and his wife were present, focused. John carried this grief with an exhausted familiarity, like one who has to face the same dark opponent that he’d fought before. Like anyone who has already experienced loss on this scale, he knew the motions, knew what to do, the people you call and what things you say. He knew exactly what shock felt like.

He sat down in front of Zach and spoke to him in a very soft, calming tone, telling him that he shouldn’t try and take in all of this at once. He told Zach that he needed to just go moment by moment and not try and think of anything else but what was happening right now. He gave Zach a hot mug of tea to hold, even though Zach had said he didn’t want it.

“I know, but it will help keep your hands warm.”

He hadn’t even noticed that his hands were so cold that they were tingling and numb until the warmth of tea crept into his fingers. He looked up at John in confusion.

“It’s shock. Your extremities get cold. Don’t worry, you’re okay.” He smiled reassuringly at him and in that moment Zach felt safe for the first time since this had started. He watched as John got up and walked into the kitchen, talking to his wife, and suddenly this sense of normalcy in the midst of what seemed such a horrible, unreal moment helped Zach focus again.

Zoe arrived in a rush of tears, being held up by her husband’s arm around her waist and instantly dashing to John when she saw him. He held her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fists in tight balls, white knuckled, and it was there again, the truth of what had happened.

She opened her eyes and saw Zach standing behind John and a fresh wave of pain blossomed in her eyes. She reached her arm out and Zach hugged her and John, pressing a kiss to her forehead, feeling her small body trembling.

“Our brother.”

It was Chris, his voice small and confused. He’d been mute and motionless since they had arrived. He sat still on the couch, his eyes looking helplessly up at them.

Zoe pulled away from John and Zach, her chin still trembling slightly as she sat next to Chris. She took a deep calming breath and reached up to stroke his face.

“Hey Chris, how are you doing?”

He looked up at her, his brow still furrowed, his eyes searching her face but not really seeing her. Seeing Zoe’s smile, so loving and so compassionate, Zach knew in that moment that he was always going to love this incredible women.

“Hey, it’s me, Zo.” Zach knew this tone. It was the universal voice that all mothers spoke, comforting and loving.

“Zoe.” Chris said, like it was the first time he’d said her name. She reached out for his hands, cupping hers around his.

“Let’s get you warmed up, okay?” She said encouragingly, and he nodded at her, his eyes pinned to her face now. John came back with a blanket that he wrapped around Chris’ shoulders. Zach sat down on the other side of him and he and Zoe each took one of his hands in theirs. His hands were like ice, tremors moving from them out to his whole body, his teeth chattering slightly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were… I’m sorry, Chris.” He said, and with his free hand he reached up to cup the back of his neck, grasping him firmly to assure himself that Chris was there, really there, and not about to disappear. “I won’t let it happen again. I promise.”

“Zach is going to take good care of you, Chris.” Zoe said. “We all are.”

They stayed like this for a while, Zach and Zoe on either side of Chris, talking to each other softly, reciting the details of where they had been when they heard, and then they fell into silence. There was nothing else to say after this, for this story was just starting. Zach’s moved his thumb rhythmically over the back of Chris’ neck and he watched him closely, watched as Chris’ eyes would zone out, and then comprehension coming over him again, making him look up at him and Zoe, whispering their names. This cycle happened over and over, each time Chris becoming more aware of them next to him, until he was squeezing their hands tight, until his eyes were desperately taking in their faces, like he was proving to himself that they were there. Zoe pressed a kiss to his cheek and leaned her forehead against his.

“You’re okay, we’re with you.”

John walked around the room, talking on the phone, answering questions deftly, and Zach was amazed by his level headedness. He crouched down in front of them and held out his phone.

“You guys, it’s Karl, he wants to talk to us.”

There was Karl’s voice, his unshakeable voice breaking slightly, but still with that bravado, that assurance that was so uniquely him. He told them that he loved him, that he was on his way back right now, that he’d been talking to Simon, JJ, that everyone was on their way back. Zach knew this is what they needed. They needed to all be together. They needed each other’s strengths so they could all make it through this, if such a thing was even possible.

 

Zach was shocked when he realized that the sun had set, that it was night time now. It had seemed like days since they got here. Zoe’s husband had made a beer run, and they were all sitting around the coffee table, John and his wife, Zoe and her husband, Chris and Zach, drinking beers, picking at the food that John had set out in front of them but none of them were really eating it.

The comfort of being around one another eased over Zach, and he felt like all the bits he had shattered into were being held in place by the people around him. Chris had seemingly broken out of his trance. He looked when they would talk to him, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t speak. He had drank the first tall can in five or six huge swallows and then opened another one.

They were quiet, only occasionally speaking in soft tones. Zoe and John talked about the last time they saw Anton, still using present tense, each too scared to think of him as was and not is. Zach remembered this random thing that Anton had said when they had gone out for dinner a few weeks ago, something so uniquely his sense of humour, and it made all of them chuckle. Zoe responded with something he’d said to her the first time they met, something about the pathos of science fiction, and it seemed so weird to see this little 17 year old boy talk like this that she had asked him if he was joking. They all laughed at this, finding some kind of relief in the breaking of the sadness.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Chris said cuttingly, his eyes looking at them in disgust. “How are you laughing right now?”

Zoe’s eyes flickered to Zach’s and she motioned to the beer can in Chris’ hand and mouthed ‘how many?’ Zach held up four fingers.

“Chris, we’re talking about good things, things about Anton that we love.” Zach reached out to put his hand on Chris’s arm, but Chris jerked away from his touch. He quickly stood up and wavered, all of the beer catching up with him. Both John and Zach went to steady him but he turned away from them angrily.

“Don’t you guys even care? He’s dead. He's dead!” His voice was raw, the pain inside him scorching its way out. He pushed his way past John, reached out to grab another tall can and headed towards the door.

“Chris!” Zach ran after him.

“I’m going home.” Chris barked over his shoulder, his hands fumbling in his pockets.

“You don’t have your keys, Chris, I drove us here.” This stopped him, his alcohol soaked brain trying to suss out how to get home. “I’ll drive you. Come on, get in the car.”

He saw Chris hesitate, and then he marched over to Zach’s car and got in, slamming the door with enough force to rock the vehicle slightly.

Zach looked back and saw John at the door, pointing to his phone, mouthing ‘text me’.

The whole drive home, Chris had his shoulders up, his back turned towards Zach, curled over the unopened beer in his hands. He didn’t even wait for the car to stop completely in front of his house before he was opening the door and jumping out. He ran up to the front door and fumbled in his pockets again. Zach parked and got out of the car, walking up behind him slowly, pulling the keys out of his pocket. He silently reached past Chris and unlocked the door, both of them staying still for just a moment, aware of the other, but not reacting. Chris reared back into motion then, shoving Zach’s arm out of the way and opening the door, going into the house without looking behind him.

Zach walked in then closed the door; Chris already on his way into the kitchen.

“Go away, Zach.” He barked out. Zach followed him, found him drinking directly from the bottle of Grey Goose he kept in the freezer.

“Chris, maybe you should slow down…”

“Don’t tell me to not drink. I am a fucking adult.” His back was still turned to Zach, he was still refusing to make eye contact. He took another swig and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth. There was only a sliver of light coming in from the outside, falling just over Chris’ back, and Zach could see all the hurt and pain wrought in the tension in his body.

“I want to be alone.” Chris said, his voice losing its rancor, but still defensive.

“Well maybe I don’t.”

The break in Zach’s voice stopped him. He swayed slightly on his feet, and then dropped his head, as if in defeat.

“Fine, do whatever you want.” He said, in a feigned attempt at disinterest. He walked to his bedroom and shut the door.

Zach went over to the couch and sat in the dark silent room, feeling his breath start to hitch.

Text John, his brain told him. He took out his phone and realized that it was actually Chris’. He looked at the notifications, saw all the I’m so sorrys, and then one from Chris’ mom, frantically asking him to call her.

Zach’s head fell back on the couch as he remembered this, that this was something that he had to do, that there were people that John didn’t talk to that Zach would have to call now.

He phoned Chris’ mom first, reassuring her that he was okay, that Chris was okay, that they were all okay, that it was just a big shock. He used all the words that he had heard John say, and they seemed to work, even though he was reciting a script and not actually meaning what he was saying. Once she was assured that they were fine for now, she let him go, reminding him that he should call his mom if he hadn’t already.

This is what he had been dreading. He’d been able to text her earlier when they were at John’s, texted her and texted his boyfriend that he was okay for now, but he had avoided actually calling anyone. He knew that as soon as he heard his mom’s voice that he was going to break. He tentatively took out his own phone and called her. Then there it was, the tone, the voice, like Zoe’s, the soothing voice of his mom, and the band that had barely been holding him together snapped. He felt sobs start to pour out of him. He was instantly a little boy again, all of his pain being soothed by the hushes and it’s okays from his mom.

He didn’t know how long he did this, but it was long enough that he completely lost all sense of where he was, what he was doing. When he started to come back to himself, he realized his whole body had curled in on itself, tense, like he was bracing himself from a physical blow. He was bent over his legs, his arms wrapping around himself. His voice was ragged and he felt sore all over.

He saw a pair of feet walk into his field of vision. He looked up and saw Chris looking down at him. He told his mom that he would call her later and hung up, all without losing Chris’ gaze

Chris’ eyes were so pale in the dim light coming in from outside that they seemed colourless, just orbs of white, like a blind man’s.

“Come sit by me.” Zach said softly.

They sat in the dark, neither of them able to speak. Zach watched as Chris slowly reached out to intertwine their fingers.

“I’m sorry.” It was barely a whisper, if it hadn’t been completely silent Zach wouldn’t have heard it.

“It’s okay.”

Silence fell again and they sat there for a long while. Eventually Chris’ head started to bob, and Zach knew that all the emotion and alcohol was catching up to him. He disentangled their hands to reach his arm around Chris’ back, pulling him down so that his head and shoulders were laying across his lap. Zach leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him, curled himself around Chris, feeling him slowly loosen with sleep in his arms.

 

That first night Zach envied Chris’ drunken state. He’d been able to pass out, blessedly safe from the real world, but any kind of rest was impossible for Zach. He would feel himself start to drop off and then awake with a gasp, seized by panic. He would squeeze his arms tight around Chris’ sleeping body, pressing his face into Chris’ shoulder, taking deep inhales of Chris’ scent, the familiarity of his presence calming him.

I’m never letting go, he thought, I’m never ever letting go.

He must have dropped off at some point, because suddenly the room was flooded with light. He listened to the dawn of this day, the first whole day without Anton in it. Then it would be a whole week and a whole month and a whole year and he wouldn’t-

Moment by moment. Just take care of the right now.

He gently shifted Chris’ body so he could pull his phone out. He messaged John and told him that he was still with Chris. John answered and told him that he would be there soon. He knew without even having Zach tell him that Chris needed them, that they had to come to him and help him.

Zach began to answer texts then, starting with his boyfriend, and then his mom, and then everyone else who needed to know what was happening. Eventually Zach ran out of things to say, felt the last bit of energy leaving him. He laid his forehead on Chris’ shoulder and dropped silent tears onto Chris’ shirt.

Suddenly John was standing there. Zach stared at him in utter confusion until he saw that he was carrying bags from the Whole Foods and realized yes he was here, yes he’d been able to come in because Zach had forgotten to lock the door. He gestured to the kitchen and Zach nodded and watched him go and place the bags on the kitchen counter, just out of his view.

He came back to stand by them, Zach and him exchanging looks that said everything. John crouched down in front of Chris and he reached out to cup the back of his head.

“Chris? Chris, hey, it’s John. Wake up, Chris.”

It took a while but eventually Chris responded with a groggy “John?”

“Let’s get you to bed, you’ll be much more comfortable.”

Between the two of them Zach and John were able to help Chris walk but then eventually had to carry him to his bed, rolling his body down onto it. John whispered that he was going to go make breakfast and left the room. Zach took off Chris’ shoes and covered him with the blanket from the end of the bed, then found the aspirin in Chris’ bathroom and placed it and a glass of water on the nightstand, and moved the wastepaper basket next to the bed. He pressed a kiss to Chris’ temple and paused there for a moment until he felt the flutter of Chris’ pulse against his lips to assure himself that he was still with him.

Zach spent the rest of the morning with John, absorbing the calmness, the steadiness that John always exuded. Watching everyday things like eggs being scrambled, toast popping up in the toaster, John’s hands moving with deftness, he started to feel safe.

He was able to eat some food, but it was mainly the coffee that Zach needed. He and John sat quietly for a long while over their plates, and then words started to float to the surface, and Zach felt like he could start to try and say out loud the things that had been ringing in his head all night. The more he talked, the clearer his thoughts came, and he started to be able to piece things together. Eventually he realized what John had done. He’d created a safe space, waited until Zach was ready to talk and then had listened, without interruption, just nodding and saying yes, of course, I know, it’s true, it is, it will be. As clarity formed inside his head, Zach looked at John and felt a rush of love, of appreciation, of gratefulness like he had never felt before. This man had just effortlessly performed one of the greatest kindnesses that Zach had ever experienced.

Zach reached out and took John’s hand, smiling at him through his grateful tears. John smiled back and it was all told in this silent exchange.

The moment was broken by a loud thumping in the back of the house.

“Chris.” Zach ran towards the bedroom, already hearing the sound of retching. He found Chris bent over the side of the bed, moaning in pain. Zach eased him back and stroked the hair back from his face.

“It’s okay, Chris, it’s okay.” He said, softly. “You’re okay, baby, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

 

Zoe came by the early evening, stoically quiet but grasping each of them close, her lips sealed together tightly, holding back all the emotions inside her. By then Chris was well enough to get out of bed, and was deep in the corner of the couch, watching silently, his face blank even though his eyes were comprehending. When Zoe saw him she pulled Zach into the kitchen with her.

“How has he been?”

“Like this. We got him to drink some water, but that’s it. He only came out here because John and I helped him.” Zach’s chin fell then, and all the fear he had for Chris bubbled up. “He hasn’t cried. At all.”

“He’s disassociating.” John said as he walked into the room. “He blocking out what’s happening because his brain can’t process it yet. Us all being here will help him stay grounded. Engage with him even if he seems non-responsive. It’s important that he realize that we’re here with him.”

“He needs to know he’s safe.” Zach whispered, and finally looked up, seeing Zoe and John looking at him with complete understanding.

This was something that they would do together, but it was going to be through Zach that they would be able to reach Chris. The trust and love that existed between the two of them was something that neither Zach nor Chris had with anyone else outside of their families. Zach had to create that same safe space that John had made for him that morning.

They spent the afternoon in Chris’ living room, sitting around him, talking to each other and to him. Chris’ responses became more cognitive as the day wore on, eventually Zach was able to encourage him to eat a little bit of food. When Chris announced that he had to go to the bathroom, they all looked at each other in relief. It was the first time he had talked without being prompted, and it showed that he was aware of himself, of his body and the world around him. None of them moved out of fear of spooking him as he got up on slightly unsteady feet and then made his way out of the room.

At five o’clock Zoe stood up and said she was going to go get a drink, and Zach realized that she’d been waiting all day to start drinking the bottle of Pinot Grigio that she brought with her. She came back with the bottle and set down four wine glasses, filling each with a generous amount, pausing before she got to Chris’ to catch his eye.

“I had to wash these even though they were in the cupboard because apparently Chris thinks it’s okay to just rinse out a glass and put it away.” She chided gently, in that way she had, cheeky but loving. She filled Chris’ glass and handed it to him. He looked at it and then her dubiously.

“You had the right idea, but messed up the execution.” She smiled at him. “This is definitely a time to drink, but it’s a maintained buzz, not shitfaced drunk.”

So they’d all gotten a little tipsy together, the wine helping to slightly uncoil tense muscles, to let emotions start to slip out slowly. Zoe and Zach each spoke quietly, tears running down cheeks, voices breaking, deep sighs and sniffled noses, saying over and over how this all didn’t seem real. Chris didn’t drink, rather watched and listened but always shook his head when they asked him what he was thinking.

Eventually, reluctantly, Zoe and John left, each hugging Zach tightly. Zoe knelt down in front of Chris to tell him they loved him, squeezing his hand between hers.

“I love you too, Zo.” Chris said softly, and Zach saw something start to shift in his gaze.

Zoe stood up and Zach knew she’d seen this shift by her pressing her lips together and turning away, struggling again to not let her emotions slip out. She squeezed Zach’s arm and then followed John out the door.

“Let’s get you to bed, Chris.” Zach said softly, reaching out his hands to help him. Chris nodded and stood, letting himself be lead back to the bedroom.

“Do you want to change your clothes? You’ve been wearing those since…” Zach couldn’t finish the sentence, his voice choked at the end by the truth.

“No.” Chris said forcefully. “No. If I change my clothes then that means…”

And then there it was, flickering out over his face.

“That means this has really happened.” His voice was barely a whisper, trembling. “This has really happened.”

He took a deep fast breath in, like he’d just pulled himself to the surface of the ocean he’d been drowning in. He reeled on his feet, and reached out for Zach’s hands right at the same moment that Zach was reaching for him. Chris’ face was filled with devastation, and with rapid, panicky inhales, the sobs started to heave from his body.

Zach pulled him into his arms, holding him steady with a hand on his neck and an arm around his waist. He could feel Chris’ ragged breaths on his neck, heard the agonizing sounds of his cries, felt his body shaking with his sobs. He didn’t try and shush him, or calm him with lies about how everything was okay. Chris was facing the truth, and he had to walk through this fire in order to find his way out.

Eventually he felt Chris start to collapse under the weight of his grief, and Zach moved him so he was laying on his side on the bed then sat next to him. Chris immediately curled up to Zach’s body. Zach rubbed his back and stroked his hair, kissing the top of his head as he felt him sob into his chest, felt Chris’ fingers tangle in his sweater, clutching onto him.

It took Chris a long time to get this out of him, took him a long time til his cries had quieted down to the occasional shuddery inhale. They laid in silence then, and Zach felt the last two days of no sleep catching up to him. He struggled to keep his eyes open, then jerked awake not realizing that he had nodded off. He had to sleep, his subconscious had to come in so he could start to try and process what had all happened.

Zach shifted his body to move Chris to the side a bit so he could lay down and Chris grasped onto him with fearful clingliness.

“Don’t go.” He whispered into Zach’s chest.

“I’m not. I’m not ever letting you go.” Zach switched the light off and then shifted himself and Chris so they were laying down, pressed together, each needing this proof that the other was there.

 

They all sat around the dining room table the next morning, with Zoe’s husband and John’s wife and Zach’s boyfriend, Zoe’s twins playing in the living room. Gathering like this, it was like a family coming together, bringing the people they loved with them. As soon as Karl came in, it felt like the sharpness of the loss that they’d been avoiding cut into all of them. None of them spoke. He looked at each one of them, and in those looks said everything.

Karl pulled Zoe into his arms and held her tightly to him. Zoe cried into him, suddenly seeming so fragile that Zach had a wild notion that if Karl let her go she would shatter on the ground like a porcelain doll.

“I know, Zo, I know.” His voice broke ever so slightly, and Zach could see tears glistening in his eyes. To see such a classically masculine man with his unwavering confidence and calmness moved like this, it made this all seem just as painful as Zach knew it was.

Zoe pulled back, letting Karl go to each of them and hug them just as tightly, holding them closely and silently. Zach felt like he could let Karl hold him up in that moment, and realized that was what they each felt now that he was here, could see that even John, who had been the strong one helping them, that even he felt it. Karl would carry the burden for them now, lift the load off them for just a little while.

He went to Chris last, holding him by the shoulders and peering into his face, studying his expression.

“This is a shitty, shitty thing that’s happened.” He said, firmly, a declaration. This is what Chris needed to hear. He needed Karl with his sturdy shoulders and no bullshit voice to state the truth, a truth that made it okay for them to be as messy and fucked up as they were.

Chris nodded, his jaw trembling as he bit back hard on his tears. Karl hugged him tight and Zach watched as Chris let him carry him in that moment, as he had with Karl as well.

 

The next morning Karl said he was going to spend the day with Chris, telling Zach to go home for the afternoon, that he could come back before when Simon was supposed to arrive that evening. Zach wavered, him and Chris exchanging fearful glances.

“Zach needs some time alone, Chris.” Karl said, grasping Chris’ shoulder and making him look at him, showing him that he would be safe with him. “You go on home now, Zach, and we’ll see you tonight.”

Karl looked over at Zach then, and his eyes told him everything. He knew how terrified Chris was at being without Zach, who had been his anchor, his constant, but Zach knew that Karl would keep Chris safe, could take care of him for this little amount of time. It was true, he did need some time at home, to privately try and suss out the tangle of emotions inside of him.

When he hugged Chris goodbye, they clutched one another until it hurt.

“I love you.” Chris said softly into his neck.

“I love you too.”

 

Simon’s plane ended up being delayed, and he wasn’t going to be there until tomorrow morning. They were all leveled by this. Zach knew they all wanted to have that one night together before having to go through the funeral the next day. It was Simon’s voice they needed, he could speak for them, could fill the silences that fell heavily. He could move them from task to task, out of dangerous territory and back into safety without any of them realizing how he did it.

There was an uneasy haze over that evening. Zoe was flustered, distracted. She accidently dropped the bottle of wine she was carrying and had screamed out, terrified. They all instinctively went to her, all four of them steadying her, Karl telling her that he got her, John bending to pick up the big pieces, Zach moving her slowly so she didn’t cut herself, Chris grabbing a towel and mopping up the spill.

They got her settled down, but her hands were still fluttering with upset.

“I love you guys, but I just, I can’t.” She looked at them all with wet eyes. “I’ll come here tomorrow before…”

After she left it was just the four of them. They all quietly puttered around, putting things away, delaying any idea of separating but not knowing what to do exactly.

“Zach, will you go into the living room and grab the wooden box out of the drawer in the end table by the window?” Chris said. Zach went and got the box, putting it in on the counter in front of them.

“Thank you, Zachary, much appreciated.” He flipped the lid open to reveal beautiful Cuban cigars. Karl groaned at the sight, picking one up and passing it under his nose to pull in the scent.

“Christopher, you’ve been holding out on me.”

“Shall we retire to the backyard for smoking and cognac?” Chris said picking up the Hennessy, smiling at them all.

This first touch of Chris’ infectious levity was what they’d been waiting for. They all needed Chris to be the one to lighten the mood, his mischievous affection and delight in all of them, even just this small amount, lifted the weight of the grief momentarily, allowing them all room to breathe.

The four of them sat out on Chris’ back deck, smoking and drinking, talking, laughing every once in awhile, saying things out into the night that they could only say to each other. They confessed the fears that this loss had brought forth in each of them, this fresh, staggering reminder that at any moment, any one of them could be gone.

They drank the Hennessey, feeling the long slow burn of the liquor smoothing things out into a haze that seemed manageable. Karl announced he was about to pass out, walked to the living room couch and promptly did so. John had long since fallen asleep on the plush lounger, so Zach covered him with a blanket to keep out the slight chill in the night air.

He quietly walked back into the kitchen and found Chris waiting for him, holding out his hand. Zach took it and Chris lead them back to his dark bedroom. The sweetness of this moment made Zach’s heart ache with love for him. This chivalry felt romantic in the classical meaning of the word, without carnality, rather a kind of connection that came from total trust and understanding. With complete ease and comfort, with no embarrassment or shame, Chris stripped off his clothes down to his boxers and then crawled into bed like a child would, on his knees, flopping down to curl up on his side.

Zach knew what was happening. He knew that this was the fruition of their closeness, that they were already so physically comfortable with one another that there was no awkwardness in this level of intimacy. He needed this too, needed to feel Chris’ body pressed to his, feel the warmth, the movement, the vitality of Chris’ presence there, so there wouldn’t be even a moment of doubt that he was with him. Chris looked up at him with this same need, exactly mirrored in his eyes. Both needed the assurance of the other’s presence.

He took off his jeans and his button down top, then paused before taking off his t-shirt. He looked down at Chris, to make sure he knew what the intent of this was. Chris smiled with a touch of sadness, and nodded his understanding. Zach laid down then, pulling the blankets over both of them, then turning to Chris, laying on his side to pull his body to him. Chris pressed his face into the hollow of his shoulder and Zach rested his cheek on the top of his head, their legs entwining, Chris’ hands tucked up between them. Neither of them spoke for a long time, listening only to the sound of each other’s breaths, now synchronized perfectly.

“You all….” Chris said into the hollow of Zach’s throat.

“We all what?” Zach’s embrace around Chris’ shoulders tightened, encouraging him.  
  
“You all have someone. You all have actual relationships with people you love, that you have a life with. I’m almost 40 and I've never had a real serious long term partner.  I need to stop… I need to find someone, someone like..."  Chris stopped himself, quietly adding "I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“You’re not alone.” Zach said. “You have all of us. You have me.”

Chris answered with a deep sigh, regretful almost. Zach felt Chris’ fingers start to slowly stroke over his collarbone, felt Chris nestle deeper under his chin.

“I wish…” Chris whispered, his voice so small. “I’ve never begrudged you the happiness that you have with who you’re with but I wish it was… I wish I had you like that, that I had the right to have you with me always.”

Zach pulled back so he could look Chris in the eyes. He gently ran his knuckle down the side of Chris’ face then stroked his thumb over his lips.

“You do.” Zach said, kissing him chastely, softly. “I’m always going to be with you. I’m never going to let you go.”

 

Zach slept that night, really slept, for the first time in days. When he woke up he heard familiar voices, smelled coffee, heard pots and pans being moved around. He sat up on his elbows, pulling himself slightly out of Chris' embrace.

“What’s going on?” Chris sleepily mumbled.

Karl appeared at the door and motioned for them to get up.

“Come on, coffee’s ready.”

Zach moved to the side of the bed, feeling his head throbbing and his stomach rolling, whether from a hangover or dread, he didn’t know. He felt Chris sitting up behind him, felt him press a kiss to his shoulder, then move to stand up.

He watched as Chris got up and wandered to the bathroom in his boxers, then wandered out, blurry eyed and sleepily scratching his chest. Chris smiled slightly, looking at him with pure affection when he met Zach’s eyes, and then turned to walk out to the kitchen. This unabashedness, this lack of any fear about how others perceived him, a kind of innocence that Chris possessed from a lifetime of being loved, it’s what drew people to him, pulling them into Chris’ intrinsically loving nature. Zach had never encountered anyone else like this. To have this pure love directed at him was all encompassing. Chris’ love for him had changed his way of seeing himself, of seeing the world, had changed Zach’s whole life.

Zach had just pulled his pants on when he heard Simon’s voice shriek from the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ, Christopher, how are you even more beautiful when you’re hungover?”

Zach smiled slightly and shook his head, and knew Simon would be the one to quietly carry the weight now.

 

When they got back to Chris’ that night, it was as if they’d climbed a treacherous mountain together and somehow survived. They were all exhausted, completely drained emotionally but the idea of being apart from one another, this night of all nights, seemed impossible. Eventually spouses and children left, and it was just the six of them, sitting around Chris’ living room.

Chris had been quiet since they came back, hanging back and watching them all. He had been given Anton’s guitar, and it sat in its case in the corner of the room, and he’d been shooting scared glances at it all evening. Zach could sense his growing unease, and then noticed that the others saw it too.

They were deep into the bottle of scotch that Simon had brought with him. Each of them was slumped low on the couches, wrung out from going through such a surreal day. Simon kept them talking, bringing each of them back when they would start to zone out, but eventually the weight became too much for him. He quietly said that he kept thinking Anton was about to enter the room, and his voice broke. This rippled out to all of them, for they’d all been thinking the same thing.

They were all looking for Anton to join them because he was the missing piece. It was him who was able to say something profound, with that wisdom he had beyond his years, that would perfectly sum up how they were feeling. It was his ability to help carry them all that was gone, and it was like a yawning void in the room.

Chris was sitting in between Zach and Karl, Zach's arm across his shoulders, staring at the glass in his hands. Zach knew this was the time for him to be the conduit through which Chris’ affection and care could go to each of them, to hold them all together. He reached out to rub his free hand up and down Chris' forearm to soothe him.

“Hey, Chris.” He said softly. “What’s going on?”

Chris could only shake his head, biting his lip to hold in what was gnawing inside him.

“Come on, tell us.” Zach said.

Chris took in a shuddery inhale, and tears fell down his cheeks. He lifted his eyes then and looked at Zach. His tears had turned his eyes into a crystalline shade of pale blue, like the gleam in the purest cut diamond. Chris’ eyes, that colour, looking at him in that moment, it was a visual that stayed with him for always after. He would see those eyes in that moment and have a wave of emotions wash over him, a mix of pure love and empathy and absolute wonder at how beautiful Chris was, both on the outside and within.

“When John spoke today, I realized that I should have spoken too. I’m going to be the one that is going to get asked about this, I’m the one who’s going to be expected to be the voice of this.”

“Why you?” Zach asked, squeezing his arm.

“Because I’m the captain.”

Then it was written in each face, the mix of love and empathy. Zach felt overwhelmed in that moment, and the words came from deep within him when he answered.

“Each of us is a part of this, each of us has our own unique role. Zoe is the heart, reminding us all of us that we are loved. Karl is our strength, he has our backs. Simon is the one who keeps us all going. John’s the one who helps guide our way. I’m, I'm….I help you…”

He couldn't think of what he did beyond being their link to Chris.

“Zach is the voice of reason, he takes your reactions, all of our reactions, and his pragmatism balances us all out.” Hearing Simon describe Zach like this made him feel so validated and appreciated.

“You, Chris,” Zach said, “you are the center that holds. The reason that this group of people are so openly affectionate, so unafraid to love one another, do nothing but laugh when we’re together, can be ridiculous and happy and delight in one another is because of you. Your ability to do this, to be so open and loving and trusting and joyful, that’s the reason we are all able to do it. You made us a family. This is because of you. Because you're our captain.”

This is what he’d been thinking all week, slowly realizing as he saw each one of them join the group, seeing what they did for one another, the roles that they played on the screen mirroring the roles they played in one another’s lives. Chris looked almost surprised to hear how important he was, how he bonded them all together.

“I love you guys so much, each one of you.” Chris said. “I’ve been so scared all week, scared that you might disappear and I won’t have told you, that I didn’t show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me.”

This was the hard won gift that grief gave you. It made you aware of how quickly someone can disappear, and that you needed to make sure they knew you loved them, that you appreciated their presence in your life.

“We love you too.” John answered for them. “We all love you so much.”

And then John broke, stoic John lowering his face against the back of his hand. They were all still in that moment, almost incredulous at this.

“I know our philosopher musician isn’t here, but a bit of him is still here with us.” Simon stood up and picked up the guitar case, sitting it on the table in front of Chris.

They all stared at it silently, this familiar item, always at Anton’s side. John got up and sat in front of Chris while Simon very carefully opened the case but could move no further. John reached out and picked it up carefully as they all watched, as the scent of the wood wafted through the room and then held it out to Chris. He reached for it with trembling hands, taking it from John to hold to him.

Karl gestured to Zoe, and she went and sat on his knees, his hand rubbing circles on her back. Simon sat down next to John, each of them leaning forward, elbows on their knees, and then Zach sat forward too, ending up with the six of them huddled around in a circle. Zach moved his hand so it clasp the back of Chris' neck, gently running his fingers over his skin. Karl reached out and squeezed Chris’ arm.

“Give us a song, then.” Karl said.

Chris slowly strummed his fingers over the strings, gently, a whisper. He did it again and again, finding the music in them.

Eventually he plucked out a familiar tune, and began to sing the song they would sing together on long nights of shooting, laying around together, exhausted, one of the songs they all loved, one of the songs that pulled all their voices together.

Chris’ voice was broken, wavering at first. When he got to the chorus he’d choked on the words, but then Zoe’s voice was there, her sweet soprano holding him up, and they sang the verse together, voices thick with emotion.

Then her voice dropped and it was just Chris, singing for their lost brother.

_Gonna free fall out into nothing, gonna leave this world for a while_

Then they all sang together, each voice mixing with the guitar, the family together, singing as one.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Free Falling by Tom Petty](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lWJXDG2i0A)


End file.
